


roots watered by weeping

by aceklaviergavin



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Adoption, Adulthood, Background Makoto/Haru - Freeform, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Married Life, Original Child Characters, Parenthood, Past Child Abuse, Trans Kitagawa Yusuke, background Ann/Shiho - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:26:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27768250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aceklaviergavin/pseuds/aceklaviergavin
Summary: Goro has always known Yusuke deserved more than he could give. He's been waiting for Yusuke to reach the same conclusion for years. They grow older, they get married, and Goro perpetually waits for it to slip through his fingers.When Yusuke interacts with the other Thieves' children, Goro thinks:Ah. This is when everything falls apart.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kitagawa Yusuke
Comments: 6
Kudos: 51





	roots watered by weeping

**Author's Note:**

> i polled my followers on twitter & they voted for akekita child acquisition.
> 
> this is more pre-child acquisition but this may become a series of oneshots showing akekita + kiddo?
> 
> detailed triggers in end notes

It starts with the baby. Or maybe it started long before then and Goro was too oblivious to notice the signs. Ann and Shiho’s apartment is sleek and modern, matte carbon-black appliances and dark hardwood floors. Goro would price their area rug at about a million yen. It was hard to tell, though, between the large playmat atop it and the parade of discarded burp cloths littering the floor.

Yusuke and Futaba crowd around where Ann sits, staring intently at the red-faced baby in her arms. Shiho is taking a well-earned nap while Ann takes over introducing the newborn to her friends. Akira and Ryuji already met the baby, and Makoto will stop by with Haru tomorrow. But today it’s Yusuke and Futaba’s turn. And Goro’s, but he’s content to hang back. He’s never quite been part of their circle anyway.

“This is Tsukasa,” Ann says, carefully turning the swaddled baby so they can see. “Aren’t they the cutest?”

Yusuke tilts his head curiously while Futaba perches on the couch beside him. “They look like a little alien,” Futaba pipes up.

Goro is inclined to agree. With its pinched face and bald head, the baby reminds Goro more of those hairless cats than a human. He isn’t sure what part of the shriveled up raisin in Ann’s arms is supposed to be cute.

For her part, Ann takes Futaba’s comment in stride. “Maybe a little bit,” she laughs. For the first time Goro notices the deep bags under her eyes. “Do you want to hold them?”

Before either of them can respond, she’s already transferring Tsukasa into Yusuke’s arms. Yusuke’s eyes widen, holding the baby in both hands. He holds it away from his body like a football, meeting Tsukasa’s unblinking gaze.

“That’s not how you hold a baby, Inari!” Futaba laughs.

“Then how do I…?”

“Here.” Ann chuckles, guiding his arms into a more comfortable position. “Support their head… there you go.”

Yusuke cradles the baby close, the way his mother cradles him in the painting that still hangs in Leblanc. “Oh,” Yusuke murmurs, one large hand braced against the back of the baby’s skull.

Tsukasa is tiny in Yusuke’s hold, torso shorter than the length of his forearm. Yusuke stares down at them with wide eyes, taking in every detail of Tsukasa’s pinched little face. Tsukasa blinks at him, opening their mouth in a squeaky yawn. Every movement enraptures Yusuke, stealing his breath like the first time he saw _Sayuri._

“I’m Kitagawa Yusuke,” he says politely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Futaba chuckles behind her hand. “Are you gonna give them your business card, too?”

Yusuke glares at her over his shoulder, the effect lessened by the baby in his arms. Ann leans back in her chair with a tired grin. She smiles fondly at the picture they make, her best friends holding her child.

“It’s cute,” Ann yawns. “I’m sure they’re happy to meet you.”

Goro folds his arms over his chest. “It has no conception of who you are at this stage.”

“Nobody asked you, birdbrain!” Futaba heckles.

“It won’t be able to recognize faces until three months and then it won’t develop object permanence until at _least_ four.” Goro rolls his eyes. “As soon as you’re out of sight, it will forget you exist.”

“You sure know a lot about babies for someone who’s so nervous around them,” Futaba teases, eyes shining behind her glasses.

Goro narrows his eyes. “I’m a _social worker._ And I am _not_ nervous.”

“That’s alright,” Yusuke cuts in, meeting Tsukasa’s chocolate brown eyes. _“I’ll_ remember.”

Their argument dies, Goro’s gaze locked on his husband’s face. Yusuke holds the baby carefully, with all the care he’d give a priceless work of art. Goro has never considered Yusuke very paternal, even now Tsukasa still fits awkwardly in his arms. But the sparkle in Yusuke’s eyes is something Goro recognizes from trips to the planetarium, summer vacations to the countryside, staring up at the stars.

Goro had always assumed this was something Yusuke wouldn’t want. For the first time he realizes that he never asked.

A loud snore interrupts Goro’s thoughts. All eyes turn to Ann, where she’s slumped back in her chair. Her head lolls against her shoulder, lips slightly parted as gentle snores escape her mouth.

“Out of HP.” Futaba pulls out her phone to snap a series of photos, no doubt for blackmail purposes.

Goro sighs. “She and Suzui-san are no doubt exhausted.” Goro grabs the throw blanket from the back of the couch and carefully drapes it over Ann’s body. “Newborns are a lot of work.”

Futaba glances at the baby currently engaged in a staring contest with Yusuke. “Really? So far it looks like easy mode.”

“Give it a couple hours.”

Futaba thrusts out her arms towards Yusuke. “Okay, Inari’s had enough time with the alien, it’s my turn.”

Yusuke carefully transfers the baby into Futaba’s hold, the whole time staring at them wistfully. A dormant knot of jealousy in Goro’s gut loosens. He tries to push it down, as Futaba hums the chocobo theme to the baby. She and Yusuke take turns admiring the baby for an hour until Suzui-san wakes from her nap. She takes Tsukasa back with practiced ease despite her weariness. She thanks them for visiting and shows them out.

Even long after they’re gone, that cloying envy still remains. It stays with Goro for days, lingering at the back of every thought. Every time he catches Yusuke staring wistfully into the distance, every time Yusuke loses his train of thought, a heady voice whispers in his ear. _He wants something you could never give. Did you really think you could ever make him happy?_

Goro’s therapist tells him to just ask, she even suggests Goro bring Yusuke in so they can work through it in a safe environment. That’s absurd. Goro can’t just _ask._ If Goro opens that can of worms then Yusuke will finally realize just how damaged Goro is, he’ll see that Goro can’t give him what he wants, that they could never be happy together.

Goro is selfish and he’d rather cling to a lie than the ugly truth.

But Yusuke has always been perceptive and intimacy has only sharpened his senses. One evening he sets a steaming mug of green tea in front of Goro on the coffee table. The sudden movement draws Goro up out of his spiral.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” Yusuke says, seating himself on the arm of Goro’s chair. “I can hear you in my studio.”

Goro blinks out of his thoughts, suddenly finding himself back in his own body. He sets aside the file he was reading, one of his charges, a young girl without any family. She reminded him too much of himself. Goro takes the mug of tea, delighting in the way it warms his hands.

“I’ll endeavor to think more quietly, then.” He sips slowly at the tea, jasmine and lavender spilling over his tongue.

Yusuke curls his arm over Goro’s shoulders, his hand sneaking around Goro’s ribs. “Or you could tell me what’s bothering you.” He throws his legs over Goro’s lap, making his intent to stay seated clear. “You’ve had something on your mind for days.”

Goro sighs, his breath turning to steam over his tea. Of course Yusuke would notice. He’s always been attuned to Goro’s moods. He’s willing to give Goro the space he needs to sort through his thoughts. But Yusuke recognizes when that space becomes too much, when Goro fills all that space with his thoughts and buries himself under their weight. Yusuke has always been ready to throw Goro a lifeline to save him from drowning.

For a few silent minutes, Goro drinks his tea. He lets the floral notes calm him as he sorts through his own muddied thoughts. Yusuke isn’t going to let him go without talking, or at least promising to talk with his therapist. Goro could always lie, but… Lying isn’t as easy as it once was. There’s no satisfaction anymore in lying to Yusuke’s face. Goro promised Yusuke that they’d be partners until the day they die. Goro wants that to mean something.

Yusuke has always been patient and kind. Even now he drapes himself over Goro and touches every inch of him because he can. Yusuke offers Goro his whole heart, uncaged, and Goro keeps it safe, close to his own, where he can feel them beat in time. It’s far more than Goro deserves. Yusuke has earned his honesty, if nothing else.

When the tea is gone, Goro carefully sets the empty mug on the coffee table. He curls his arm around Yusuke’s legs in his lap, his other arm wrapping around Yusuke’s waist. Goro looks up into Yusuke’s open, unguarded eyes.

“You seemed very taken with Tsukasa the other day,” Goro finally, fighting to keep the emotion out of his voice.

Yusuke tilts his head, giving Goro a curious look. He wasn’t sure what he expected Goro to say, but it wasn’t that. Yusuke is fond of Ann’s child the way any friend would be. She’s the first of their group of friends to have children, though certainly not the last. Makoto and Haru have been going through the process slowly—Yusuke expects they’ll adopt within the next few years. Their group is beginning to move onto the next stage of their lives.

Yusuke can’t help but think of when the Phantom Thieves disbanded all those years ago. Everyone moved on with their lives, grew up and sought what they wanted. Everyone except Yusuke, still relying on his art for survival, knowing that he was one mistake away from losing everything. He had to watch as one by one, his friends left him behind.

“I suppose I was,” Yusuke hums, remembering the weight of the baby in his arms. “Newborns have a particular reverent innocence. Artists have tried to capture it for centuries. I wonder if Ann would let me borrow Tsukasa for a portrait…”

This train of thought if familiar. Goro can’t stop the swell of affection that warms his heart. Despite himself, a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“I don’t think Ann has much free time to dedicate to a portrait right now,” Goro says fondly.

Yusuke purses his lips. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps I could persuade her to let me capture some quick sketches?”

Goro squeezes Yusuke gently with the hand resting on his waist. “Is that…” his voice cracks on the words. “Is that something you’d ever want for yourself?”

“A painting? Not particularly. I’d most likely let Ann have it.”

“Not a painting,” Goro huffs, “a baby.”

Yusuke blinks at him, startled out of his thoughts. “Oh!” He stares at Goro, mouth slightly parted in shock. “Oh, I see.”

Goro wishes Yusuke would explain it to him.

Yusuke falls silent, eyes downcast, brow furrowed. Goro recognizes when Yusuke’s lost inside his own head. Yusuke gave him the space to sort through his own thoughts, the least Goro can do is give Yusuke the same. Even if the anxiety simmers in his veins. Goro drums his fingers on Yusuke’s knee while he waits.

After a span of minutes that stretch on for an eternity, Yusuke finally meets his eyes again. “I suppose it’s not something I’ve given much thought.”

That, at least, quiets some of Goro’s fears. “Really?”

Yusuke leans against the chair, body turned into Goro’s. “When I was very young I imagined I’d have children one day, in the same way I assumed I’d be someone’s wife.” He turns the wedding ring on his finger. “Clearly, things have changed.”

Goro isn’t sure he’s entirely satisfied with that answer. “The way you looked with Ann’s child…” Goro swallows thickly. “It seemed like you didn’t want to let them go.”

Yusuke tries to think back to that moment, tries to remember the thoughts running through his head as he held something so precious. “I think I was trying to imagine what my mother felt when she held me all those years ago.”

Goro lets out a long-held breath. “That… makes sense.” His therapist was right, as she often was. Goro should simply ask before jumping to conclusions.

“Why?” Yusuke asks. “Do you…?”

“No,” Goro snaps.

The razor sharp edge of Goro’s voice gives Yusuke pause. “The thought upsets you,” he notes.

Goro lets out a long sigh, tearing his gaze away. He pulls Yusuke further into his lap, palm finding the cool skin peeking out from beneath Yusuke’s shirt. Yusuke goes willingly, slides easily into Goro’s embrace like flowing water. He allows Goro a moment to collect his thoughts.

“I’m not upset with _you,”_ Goro breathes. “We both know I would be a terrible father.”

Yusuke’s mouth twists into a sharp frown. “Don’t speak for me.” He pinches the tip of Goro’s nose.

Goro scowls and dares to meet Yusuke’s gaze once again. Yusuke’s eyes are just as open and honest as the day he asked for Goro’s hand. He’s always accepted the worst parts of Goro’s soul and dared to love him still.

“You can’t really tell me you think I’d be a _good_ parent?” Goro scoffs.

“I don’t see why not,” Yusuke challenges, tilting his chin up to stare down his nose.

“I’m not…” Goro struggles to find the right words. “I’d only hurt any child I tried to raise.”

“I think you’ve always chosen to see the worst in yourself.” Yusuke reaches up and tenderly brushes Goro’s bangs back from his forehead. “You take care of your charges at work, don’t you?”

Goro thinks of the children that he’s helped through his work. Some of them have simply been brief meetings while their parents found their footing, others have been in and out of his office time and time again as he tries to find them a place to belong. He thinks he knows what that means better than most.

“That’s different,” Goro mutters.

“Is it?” Yusuke asks. “To some of those children you’re the only who’s ever cared for them, who’s made sure they’re safe, and healthy.” Yusuke gently tilts up Goro’s chin to meet his eyes. “I don’t think that’s so different from parenthood.”

Goro presses his face into the crux of Yusuke’s shoulder. “It’s just temporary.”

“For them, maybe.” Yusuke’s hand curls lovingly around his jaw. “But not for you.”

Goro remembers the first child he ever took on like it was yesterday. He was a surly teenager, bouncing between foster homes while his mother did time in prison. Goro recognized himself in those sharp edges and Akira in that undercurrent of rebellion. He tried to redirect that anger: therapy, clubs, school. Eventually the mother’s sentence ended, and Goro sat through a stilted, awkward reunion. He doesn’t know if that boy ever found an outlet for that fire. Goro hopes he did, that his work wasn’t all for nothing.

Every child that passes through his care has a story like that. Goro remembers every single one. No matter how much time they have together, long, short, once, or recurring, Goro does his best. He’ll take care of them when no one else will. He hopes he can ease their burdens and guide them to happier days. If he can make sure they’re safe, that’s enough for him.

“There’s far more space in your heart than you’re willing to admit.” Yusuke slides his hand down the slope of Goro’s neck and settles it over his chest. “You found a place for me. I think you could fit something… some _one_ else, too.”

Goro huffs out a laugh into Yusuke’s neck. “That’s just because you’re so god damned stubborn.”

Yusuke’s laugh rumbles through Goro’s chest. “Maybe so.” He leans his head against Goro’s, lips pressed into his crown. “If it’s truly not something you want, then we’ll speak no more of it.” His words brush through Goro’s hair. “But I’d hate for you to close yourself off again because you think yourself unworthy.”

“I _am_ unworthy,” Goro murmurs into Yusuke’s skin.

“Yet you spend your days making sure no one has to suffer through a childhood like yours,” Yusuke tuts at him. “What does worthiness matter if you can do that?”

Goro sighs, knowing this is an argument he won’t win. “What about you?” He pulls back just enough to meet Yusuke’s eyes. “Am I… keeping you from the life you want?”

Yusuke’s eyes soften, rain clouds parting after the storm. _“This_ is the life I want.” He places both of his hands on Goro’s face, holding him in his palms. “You and… whatever else life has in store for us.”

Goro’s fragile soul threatens to break apart under the force of Yusuke’s love. All that adoration flows through him like the ocean’s tide. He drinks it all down and wonders if one day it will stop feeling so new.

“I love you,” he breathes.

Yusuke’s brighten the way they do every time, like the words are still a surprise. “And I you, my muse.” He brushes his thumb over the curve of Goro’s cheekbone. “For what it’s worth, I think you’d be a wonderful father.”

The years pass. Tsukasa grows older, toddling after his mothers on shaky legs. Haru and Makoto adopt a pair of twins named Sachie and Chihiro. A surly teenager, not so different from the person Akechi once was, takes up residence in Leblanc’s attic under Akira’s watchful eye.

Time and love wear down Goro’s sharper edges. Scars form over wounds he thought irreparable. Every day he chooses to be a little better than he was before.

Sachie sits on Yusuke’s lap in Leblanc, drawing a lopsided cat in bright blue crayon under Yusuke’s watchful eye. Yusuke’s arms loop around the girl’s waist, holding her close. Something twists in Goro’s chest. He thinks maybe… _maybe._

For weeks, it’s nothing more than a thought in the back of his mind. Yusuke leads Tsukasa by the hand to the breakfast table where Goro prepared omurice for the three of them, Goro chases Chihiro through Yongen-jaya with her discarded shoes, and Yusuke describes the symbolism of _The Last Supper_ to Sachie as she chews on his hair. The feeling only grows, a knot tightening painfully around Goro’s heart.

It’s frightening and exhilarating all at once. He’s… happy with the life they’ve carved out amidst the sorrow. He’s content, something he never thought he’d be able to say. He thinks… there might be space in their lives for more.

One day, he comes home to find Yusuke in the den. The only light is the blue glow of Yusuke’s phone screen as he curls into the corner of the couch. Tear tracks shine on his cheeks, eyes red and swollen. His quiet sobs are the only sounds to break the silence.

Goro flips on the light. “Yusuke?” Goro drops his briefcase at the door, barely managing to slip off his shoes before rushing to his husband’s side.

Goro kneels down in front of the couch, capturing both of Yusuke’s hands. Yusuke’s phone clatters as it hits the floor. Yusuke blinks at Goro, bloodshot eyes bleary in the sudden brightness. His hands are cold, the way Goro expects, long fingers wrapped around Goro’s wrist. Tears cling to the end of Yusuke’s lashes, smearing salt across his cheeks.

“What’s wrong?” Goro asks, hands shaking with barely contained rage. “Who did this?”

Yusuke shakes his head, lip trembling. “One of Madarame’s former pupils… Kaori-senpai?”

Goro remembers her well, even if they’ve only met in passing. Yusuke would meet with her and a handful of the other pupils he still kept in touch with. Goro was never invited, but they would visit their apartment from time to time. Kaori-san was a slight woman, a little older than Yusuke, with short dark hair and clothes worn at the seams. Sometimes a little girl would accompany her, tiny hand fisted in Kaori-san’s skirt.

“Did something happen?” Goro asks urgently.

“She… she…” Yusuke’s voice breaks on the words. “She killed herself.”

Goro’s heart seizes in his chest. “Oh, Yusuke,” he breathes.

Yusuke practically collapses into Goro’s embrace. Goro wraps his arms tight around Yusuke’s shoulders, one hand tangling in Yusuke’s hair. Yusuke presses his face into the crux of Goro’s neck, lashes fluttering against Goro’s skin. His body shakes in Goro’s hold as Goro tries to be the rock that weathers the storm.

“She was doing well…!” Yusuke gasps. “I thought… I thought…”

Slowly, Goro rises, turning to sit on the couch. He carefully rearranges Yusuke so that Yusuke’s head rests in his lap. Goro cards his fingers through Yusuke’s hair, one arm wrapped around Yusuke’s waist. Yusuke lets himself be moved, limp in Goro’s hold.

“You know you’re not at fault,” Goro murmurs, smoothing the tear tracks on Yusuke’s cheeks.

“It was supposed to be over!” Yusuke sobs. “When we changed Madarame’s heart, it was supposed to make everything _better.”_

In the wake of Madarame’s arrest, Yusuke struggled for years to find himself. So much of Yusuke’s identity lies in the things he learned from Madarame. He could spend a lifetime untangling that knot and still never find the end. The ghost of Madarame still haunts him, in his art, in his memories, in the very things he holds dear. Sometimes, it’s almost like Madarame never left at all.

It’s the same for Kaori-san and all the other pupils. Much like Yusuke, Kaori didn’t have any family. It was easier for Madarame to exploit children that didn’t have guardians looking out for them. After leaving the atelier, Kaori moved in with an older partner. Without any support or skills, she worked low wage jobs, bouncing from one bad relationship to the next. She was used to Madarame walking over her boundaries, ignoring her wishes, and hurting her when she acted out. She didn’t think much of it when her boyfriends did the same.

Eventually, she had her daughter and tried to do better. Madarame’s arrest had little real effect on their lives at all. Justice was done, yes, but justice alone wouldn’t bring back the years she lost to a man that saw her as a tool. Justice wouldn’t undo the hurt she’d suffered from Madarame and the men she ran to in his wake.

Yusuke hides his face in Goro’s shoulder. “She doesn’t have any family,” he sniffles. “What’s going to happen to her daughter?”

Goro knows the answer to the question. Kaori’s daughter will go into foster care and likely grow up in a group home surrounded by other unwanted children. If she’s lucky, she’ll come under the care of someone like Goro, who will do his best to advocate for her and someday she’ll find a place to belong. If not…

“There are still people like Madarame in the world,” Yusuke gasps. “What if someone takes her in just to use her?”

Madarame plucked newly formed clay from the cradle of the earth and molded into a shape that was easy to use. Other people like Madarame could use it just easily. Once those patterns are set in stone, they’re nearly impossible to unlearn. Kaori was used again and again until she finally shattered. She left her daughter unguarded, ready for someone to mold.

Abuse is a cycle. Once the current drags you under, the surface disappears. It took the might of the Phantom Thieves for Yusuke to break free. Kaori wasn’t so lucky. She drowned in the undertow and pulled her daughter down with her.

“How is that one man can ruin lives across three generations?” Yusuke asked, blinking tears into Goro’s skin. “He let my mother die, he stole my childhood. And now Ayaka-chan is going to grow up just like we did.”

Goro tightens his hold on Yusuke’s waist. When his mother died, he lost everything. All the warmth of his childhood turned cold and he was torn away from everything that ever mattered. No one ever fought for him, no one kept his mother’s memory alive. Maybe if there’d been someone… things would have been different. That’s why he dedicated his life to making sure no one ever had to go through what he did.

Yusuke shakes in his arms. “What was the point of everything we did if we can’t even save one little girl?”

Goro hears himself speak without registering the words. “We could take her in.”

The sudden silence is deafening.

Yusuke pulls back, peering up at Goro from beneath wet lashes. “What?” He furrows his brow, cheeks stained with tears.

Goro could easily retreat, dismiss the suggestion and go back to comforting his husband. It’s not like he’s put any more thought into this than his gut instinct to protect someone who can’t protect themselves. Goro’s only just begun to accept that this—a family—is something he wants. There’s so much more to think about before even suggesting they take this step. Once they commit to this—raising a child—it’s not something they can back away from.

But when Goro imagines doing _nothing_ just like all the adults that watched him suffer, his soul screams. He knows Yusuke feels the same.

Goro meets Yusuke’s gaze, his heart beating inside his throat. “If no one else will… then we could.”

Yusuke’s eyes widen, lips parted in a breathless gasp. He braces himself on Goro’s shoulders, fingers curling around Goro’s neck. His eyes swell with tears and budding hope, like Goro has offered him the world.

Yusuke’s hands tremble, pressed against Goro’s nape. “Do you really…?”

Goro’s tongue weighs heavy in his mouth. He thinks of sleepless nights, warm-cooked breakfast every morning, struggling to fit chubby arms through a winter coat. No doubt it will be difficult—different from the parenthood their friends have found. Ayaka-chan already _has_ a mother, one that Yusuke and Goro could never hope to replace. She might never think of them as her parents in the sense that Tsukasa thinks of Ann as his mother. But what does that matter, if they can keep her safe?

“You know I wouldn’t mention it if I wasn’t sure,” Goro breathes.

Yusuke surges up to kiss him, holding Goro’s face in both of his hands. Goro falls back against the couch, curling his hand around the back of Yusuke’s skull. Yusuke kisses feverishly, lips seeking out any bit of skin on Goro’s face. He presses messy kisses to Goro’s cheeks, his nose, the corner of his mouth. Finally he finds Goro’s lips, drinking down all the air Goro has to spare.

When he finally pulls away, Goro can’t help but laugh. “I take it you feel the same.”

Yusuke presses his forehead to Goro’s, panting against Goro’s skin. “There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more.”

**Author's Note:**

> triggers: referenced suicide of a minor character, past child abuse, madarame
> 
> you can come talk to me on [tumblr](https://aceklaviergavin.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](https://twitter.com/aceklaviergavin)


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